La Panthère Noire
by It's always Wednesday
Summary: Everyone knew that Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came back, Harry would save them all. There was no one else who could, right? Right? Harry Potter AU and characters will be OOC Pureblood!Hermione
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first** _ **Harry Potter**_ **fic and it's been a long time coming. Just to warn y'all, all of my** _ **Harry Potter**_ **fics will be Hermione centric. I'm going to pair her with maybe unexpected people or maybe very expected. However, no Ron. That's my one rule, no Hermione/Ron. That does not mean I'm going to portray him as an ass in every fic. Just when it fits into the plot.**

 **Speaking of pairings, I have no clue who I'm going to pair Hermione with in this as of yet, although I do have a few ideas. If you'd like me to put up a poll as to who, just let me know. Also, I know there are some of you that may be waiting for me to update my other stories but I am working on them. Just a few more days of editing and they'll be ready to be re-posted.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter Franchise. Nothing. The only things that would be mine are any OC's that may appear.**

 **Prologue:**

 **19 September, 1983, Monday**

"Where are we going, _maman_?"

The blonde woman looked down at her daughter, identical blue eyes staring at each other. The beautiful woman bent down to her five year old daughter's height and caressed the young doll-like girl's silky, black hair with her left hand and held the girl's petite hand in her right.

" _Ma chérie_ , we are going somewhere safe," she said in a soothing tone.

The child looked confused, "But what about _papa_? He's coming with us, too, right?"

The woman almost choked on a sob as she bowed her head to hide to budding tears in her eyes. She looked back up at her daughter with a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her watery eyes.

"Papa will meet us soon, _mon petite chaton_ ," the woman answered.

The little girl cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth to ask another question when there was a loud _boom_ that came from the direction they had come from.

The woman quickly grabbed her child up into her arms and sprinted as best as she could in her full length ball gown. The child buried her small head against her mother's neck, suddenly afraid of looking up.

But look up she did and regretted it as her eyes landed on crazed looking men dressed in black robes chasing after them. Some of them, the girl couldn't see the faces of for they were wearing twisted, silver masks.

The young girl squeaked, " _Maman_!" and the woman didn't have to look behind her to realize what was going on. Supporting her daughter with one hand, the woman grabbed her wand from the hidden pocket of her dress and twisted slightly to shoot non-verbal hexes at those chasing them.

She ran faster thankful for the semi-invisible barrier behind her, blocking the men's hexes.

The woman finally came to the point that she was heading for and quickly apparated from the spot not noticing the hex hitting her side.

oOo

The woman was walking still, her feet aching and her side in excruciating pain as the adrenaline in her system had worn out and she could feel the deep gash on her lithe body. She made sure that her daughter wouldn't feel the rapidly flowing, warm blood.

" _Maman_ , when is _papa_ coming?" her daughter murmured.

"Soon," the woman answered, albeit weakly. "Go to sleep for now, _ma chérie_. We'll get to that safe place soon."

"Ok, _maman_. _Je t'aime_ , _bonne nuit_ ," the girl mumbled, her eyes closing as she fell asleep almost instantly.

" _Bonne nuit_ ," the woman half sobbed.

It seemed as if hours passed when it was, in fact, only a few minutes when the French witch stopped in front of a wrought iron gate. The magical gate recognized her and swung open.

She walked up the winding trail, stumbling a few times before reaching the magnificent manor and knocked on the large doors with the brass knocker.

The door opened and there stood a house elf that came up to the woman's knees.

"OH! Lady Baudin, come in. Milly will get Mistress," the house elf exclaimed, bulbous eyes widening at the large blood stain on Lady Baudin's gown and paler than normal complexion.

Lady Baudin was directed by Milly to the large sitting room a little ways away from the front door. The elf ran off to get her mistress as Lady Baudin set her daughter down on the couch nearest to the fireplace.

Not a minute later, an old woman came running in as fast as her short legs would take her. She may have been elderly, but that did not stop her from rushing to the velvet seating.

"Merlin!" the elder woman exclaimed. "Milly! Go and get me the emergency potions from the lab will you."

With a pop, the elf was gone and the stern woman practically ran over to where Lady Baudin had collapsed beside the couch, her weak legs no longer able to carry her.

"Helene! Where is Maurice? And what has happened to you?" the elderly woman almost whispered noticing the sleeping child on the couch. She crouched down to pick Helene up by her arm and almost dragged her to sit on the couch.

Helene chuckled forlornly. "Oh Augusta, Maurice is…" she stopped there, her deep blue eyes tearing up, "Maurice is dead."

Augusta bowed her head and closed her eyes, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out slowly before looking up at Helene's trembling body. "What happened, Helene?" Augusta asked dismally.

Helene, with her hand over her mouth, took a moment to calm herself and looked over to her daughter and only child, weakly putting a hand on the child's small legs.

"They came, those, those _mangeur de la mort écume_!" she spat. "They stormed into my home but Maurice and I felt the wards go off. We ran into the underground tunnel beneath the dungeons. It bought some time, a few minutes. There were too many of them, they caught up to us and started to throw hexes. Maurice, he, oh Maurice, he pushed me into a hidden alcove near the woods by the manor. He," she stopped there and took a shuddering breath. Augusta grabbed her hand and held, giving her silent support. Milly popped back into the sitting room and handed the potions to her Mistress.

"Go on, Helene," Augusta prodded.

"Maurice ran ahead of us b-but he didn't have any wards up. They got him within a few feet of where I stood," Helene said, staring at the large, ornate fireplace. There was silence that filled the air between the two women. Helene let out a shaky sigh and continued, "I ran here with her," she gestured to the sleeping child, "and put a ward up around us when they started to throw hexes. As soon as I got to the apparition point, I let the wards down and apparated but it seems as if one of those hexes caught me." She chuckled here then winced where Augusta slathered the potion on her side where she had torn into her dress.

It was silent for a few minutes before Helene lifted a shaking, pale hand towards Augusta's working hands. "It's ok, Augusta. Nothing will help now."

Augusta looked up at Helene with wide bewildered eyes. "Then I will take you to St. Mungo's."

"No," Helene muttered. "Just make sure to take care of my daughter, please."

"But Helene-!"

"Please, promise me that you'll take care of her," Helene pleaded, tears running down her pale face.

Augusta sat next to her goddaughter before sighing, a few tears rolling down her eyes as well. "I will, I'll raise her."

"Thank you, Augusta, so much. And they'll be looking for her. You must make sure that they will not recognize her. But do not keep her heritage from her. She will need it when the time comes," Helene said so quietly that the older woman almost couldn't hear her.

Augusta nodded, "I will."

Helene sobbed, "Thank you, so much."

Augusta nodded and sat there, holding her goddaughter's hand until her last breath left her. Augusta closed her eyes, a few tears leaking through.

"Milly, would you and the others please get Lady Baudin ready for her burial," she said.

"Of course, Mistress," the house elf sobbed.

The manor was silent as Augusta picked up the sleeping child and kissed Helene's forehead once more before walking out of the room and up the long winding stairs. She stopped at an ivory door and opened it, revealing a pure white room, walking inside and placing the slumbering child underneath the fluffy white comforter on the large, snowy canopy bed.

Augusta left the room, not completely closing it, sighing for the turbulent times that she knew were to come.

oOo

Four-year-old Neville Longbottom crept through his home, careful to not let any of the house elves or his grandmother catch him. He had to find his plush hippogriff before his grandmother scolded him again for leaving his toys scattered around their large manor.

He remembered leaving it in one of the rooms on the second floor, probably in the Snow Room. Neville liked to call that room the Snow Room because it was pure white and was always a bit cold yet if you cuddled underneath the charmed blankets, it would feel as if you were sat in front of a fireplace.

He hesitated in front of the familiar ivory door seeing it cracked open but went on, opening the door wider to creep into the room. But he stopped when his hazel eyes saw a small lump underneath the white blankets with only a splash of curly, black hair to mar the pure white surface.

The boy shuffled into the room and tip-toed towards the bed out of curiosity. A thought occurred to him, that maybe he should find his grandmother to inform her but thought better of it. He wasn't supposed to be out of bed in the first place.

As he reached the bed side, Neville noticed a small, pale hand sticking out of the sheets. Walking closer, he pulled the sheets down a bit and found a small angelic face. Underneath the covers was a girl, no younger than he, with long black eyelashes resting on pale skin. He thought that her skin resembled one of his grandmother's magical, collectible dolls, the ones that used to play with him before his playdates started.

He stared at the girl's face not noticing that her hand had started to twitch. But he did notice when her eyelashes started to flutter and when she let out a gentle sigh.

Neville froze in place, his eyes growing large as the girl opened her eyes to reveal sapphire gems like the ones his grandmother had in her favorite necklace.

The girl lay there, not knowing what to do when she encountered the boy standing by her bedside.

Neville finally snapped into action stuttering out a response.

"H-hi, my name is Neville Longbottom. Who are you?" he asked.

The girl sat up and looked down at him then answered. "My name is Hermione Annette Baudin," she paused. "Why are you in my room?"

Neville looked confused then. "You're in my house, in the Snow Room."

"The Snow Room? Your house?" she inquired.

He nodded. "Yeah, I call it the Snow Room because it's all white and cold in here, just like snow. And you're in Longbottom Keep."

Hermione looked around the room. She noticed the room was not her own nor was it any of the rooms in her home. She looked at the boy next to her, a small frown gracing her face. "Do you know where my _maman_ is?"

Neville was confused. " _Maman_? What's that?"

"Not what, who. My mama. Do you know where she is?" The dark haired girl looked exasperated as she explained.

"Oh," he uttered. "Well, I don't know who your mama is but I can ask Grandmother. Or I could ask Milly, my house elf."

Skeptical, Hermione nodded warily as Neville debated on who to call.

Knowing he would get in trouble if he went looking for his grandmother, the blond decided to call on his elf. Before he could, the door opened to the room and in stepped the very person he was anxious to avoid.

When Augusta walked in to the Ivory Room where the now orphaned girl slept, she did not expect to see her grandson standing next to the bed or the daughter of her goddaughter to be wide awake.

The matron stood still for a moment in the doorway, her gaze darting from her grandson to the girl and back. She finally settled on the boy who was not supposed to be out of bed.

"Neville, what are you doing out of bed at this time?" she berated.

Said boy had the decency to look slightly abashed. Seeing this, Augusta sighed and stepped forward until she was before him. She scooped him up, bringing out a small giggle from him. Placing him on the bed, the older woman turned to look at the now wary and clearly confused girl sitting up against the pillows.

"Hello, Hermione. My name is Augusta Longbottom and this is my grandson, Neville. Your _Maman_ is – _was_ – my goddaughter."

Little Hermione looked at the formidable looking woman with a piercing stare. Augusta couldn't be helped but be reminded of her late goddaughter and tried to keep her tears at bay.

After a moment of silence, Hermione finally spoke. "Where is she? And my _papa_? _Maman_ said that he would meet us," she murmured. She could see the budding tears in the older woman's eyes and, despite her young age, could feel the tension in the room slowly build.

Augusta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them, she looked at the gems looking back at her and braced herself for the worst.

 **A/N: So I'm going to end it there. It feels right to do so. The next time we see the two children, they'll be off to Hogwarts. Hermione's new, temporary identity will be explained in the next chapter as well so don't fret about that. We will also meet new characters that we all know and love. Or don't. There will be a few changes as this is an AU. I anticipate that this fic will be at least 35-40 chapters, if not more. And, just to let you know, all of the french comes from google translate. Please correct me if anything turns out wrong. I hope you enjoyed this fic and continue to enjoy it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And I am back. This chapter contains the introduction of some characters as well as the explanation for Hermione's temporary identity as well as some background on her heritage. There will be changes as this an AU and those will be explained, too. This will start at Hermione's first year at Hogwarts. I'll try not to drag the early years out as the more important things start to happen in the middle of our protagonist's fourth year. I'm also looking for a beta so if you're interested, please email me at the address in my profile.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter Franchise. Nothing. The only things that would be mine are any OC's that may appear.**

 **Chapter 1:**

 **1 September, 1991, Sunday**

The morning air was crisp as Hermione stood in front of her parents' graves. The lingering heat from that unusually warm summer allowed for her to wear her new uniform without the somewhat stifling robes.

The now brown haired girl knelt between the two gravestones and put a hand on each one.

"Well, _Maman_ , _Papa_ , I'm finally off to Hogwarts. Grandmother Augusta is with Neville. Uncle Algie gave him a toad and he's already lost the poor thing. He's named him Trevor, I believe. I haven't decided to take a familiar with me this year. I suppose we'll see how it goes."

Silence met her as she sat there.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. She opened the amber hues and took in another shuddering breath.

"I'm scared," she uttered. "Not about which house I'll be in or if I'll make any friends. What if – what if they find out who I am, _what_ I am."

"Now, Hermione, you know that you will be safe. None of that worrying."

Whipping around, Hermione gazed at Augusta Longbottom. She smiled sheepishly and stood up as the matron came to stand beside her.

"Hello, Grandmother," the young girl greeted. "I was just telling _Maman_ and _Papa_ about today."

Augusta smiled and placed her hand upon her granddaughter's shoulder. "I'm sure that they are very proud of you. They have seen how beautiful and proper and powerful you are growing up to be. You have nothing to be afraid of. You let your old grandmother worry, you are much too young."

Hermione chuckled. "You are not as old as you insinuate, Grandmother. Aren't you younger than Hogwarts' Headmaster?"

Augusta's brow became furrowed as she thought of the older wizard.

"I want you to be careful with him, sweetheart," she cautioned. "He can be very… persuasive, shall we say."

"Yes, Grandmother," Hermione nodded. "I understand."

There was a few moments of silence as the two witches stood, staring at the headstones before Augusta broke it.

"Despite being too young to worry, I want you to be wary as to who you should trust, my dear girl," came the warning. "I trust that you remember all I've taught you and Neville."

"Always put family first and yourself a close second, family is important and may not always end in blood, keep those who are loyal close and your enemies closer, the enemy of my enemy may not always be my friend," Hermione recited. "I remember, Grandmother. I'll make sure that Neville is kept safe as well."

Augusta nodded solemnly. She turned the younger witch around and placed both of her hands on her shoulders.

"Your parents aren't the only ones who are proud of you, _mon chat noir_. Continue to make us proud, my dear."

Hermione beamed, tears threatening to over flow. She hugged her grandmother in all but blood. Shuddering breaths were had as they let one another go.

"Well," Augusta breathed, "shall we fetch Neville and your Grandfather Alfred? It may be early but I want you two to find a good compartment on the train."

"We shall."

oOo

The small family got to Platform 9 ¾ while others were only trickling in, only a handful of other families coming to see their children off.

Alfred and Augusta stood in front of their grandchildren as the two got ready to board the train. Alfred hugged both children before Augusta. The older witch embraced them before stepping back.

"Look out for each other, always. Even if you end up in different houses."

The young witch and wizard looked at one another then back to Augusta before nodding.

"Good," Alfred grunted. He gave a small smile, ruffled Neville's hair, and chucked Hermione's chin. "Go on now, get on the train. Find good seats and make good friends."

Hermione and Neville grinned before the young girl grabbed her "cousin's" hand and dragged him behind her onto the train.

The pair settled in to a compartment, stashing their trunks above them. Sitting down, they looked out at the platform and watched as more families appeared.

"Mia, what if I don't get into Gryffindor?" Neville blurted.

Hermione sighed and looked at the slightly chubby, blond boy. "It doesn't matter which house the hat puts you in, Nev," she placated. "You'll always be Neville. Plus, Gran and Grandad would be proud of you regardless."

"Do you – do you think my mum and dad would be proud of me even if I didn't get into their house?" he muttered.

"Oh, Nev." Hermione moved to sit next to him and held his hand. "Of course they'd be proud of you. You're their son and if Gran and Grandad are proud of you then they must be, too." She bumped his shoulder as he looked at her. "Besides, I know for a fact that I won't end up in Gryffindor. Call it a gut feeling but I don't think Gryffindor is the right house for me. Much too self-sacrificing, those lions, for me."

Neville laughed and ruffled her long, curly hair. "You're the best sister/cousin a bloke could ask for," he said while she huffed and tried to smooth her hair down.

"Of course I am," she said slyly. She stood to grab a book from her trunk as Neville looked back out the compartment window.

oOo

The train had made a third of the way to its destination before Neville realized that his new familiar was missing.

"Don't worry, Nev. I'll help you look for him," Hermione assuaged his nerves. "You go towards the front of the train and I'll walk towards the back. Meet me back here when you're done."

oOo

The compartment door was already opened so she knocked on the frame and looked at the four first years. All of them sat in their temporarily blank robes. Sitting on her right was a pug faced girl with short, black hair that looked at her as if she smelled something rotten. She was sat close to a boy with hair so blond, it looked white. Hermione couldn't tell if his pinched features were scrunched up the way they were because of the girl clinging to him or herself. Across from the two were two other boys. One had dark skin and light green eyes, which were sweeping up and down Hermione's figure, judging her appearance it seemed. Sat next to him was the compartment's only occupant that hadn't looked at her once she knocked. She could see that the brunet boy's head was down due to the book in his lap. His ice blue eyes were hidden behind horn rimmed glasses.

"Excuse me," Hermione started. Before she could continue, the other girl interrupted.

"And just _who_ are _you_?" she sneered.

Hermione's face went from polite and cordial to cold and blank immediately after. She had perfected her mask many years before and she was _not_ partial in any way to such rudeness. 

"If you had let me finish, then you would have known by now, wouldn't you?" Hermione internally seethed. Not even at Hogwarts yet and she had encountered the first person she would detest. "As I was saying, my name is Hermione Fawley. I'm afraid my cousin has lost his familiar, a toad. I came by to enquire whether any of you had seen it."

The rude, little witch was visibly upset as she turned to the blond. "Drakey! Are you just going to let her talk to _me_ like that?" she practically screeched.

The pale boy's face scrunched up even more and shrugged the girl's offending hands off of his arm where she had clutched to it like a lifeline.

"I've told you a thousand times, Pansy. Stop calling me that." He leaned back against his seat and looked back at Hermione. "Draco Malfoy," he nodded. He gestured to the two in front of him. "That there is Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. And this," he glanced at the simpering yet red faced girl next to him, "is Pansy Parkinson." 

Hermione nodded to each occupant bar the Parkinson girl, her mask still in place.

"'fraid we haven't seen any toads," Zabini shrugged.

"Thank you for your time." Hermione once more before departing. She rolled her eyes and sighed before going on to the next compartment. Honestly, wasn't that girl raised with any manners at all?

Hoping not to meet any more unsettling students, she moved on.

oOo

Sighing, Hermione trudged on, still looking for the lost toad. She could've sworn that her uncle had left a terrarium with Neville. She was deciding on spending the rest of the ride looking for it when she came upon the next compartment.

Inside was a red headed, freckled boy sitting across a disheveled, dark haired boy with his glasses slightly eschewed. The red head had his wand raised at a rat with its back end sticking out of a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"Excuse me, but are you about to do magic?" Hermione walked in and sat down next to the disheveled boy. "Well," she gestured with her hand, "let's see it."

The two young wizards looked bewildered for a moment before the red head, with a disgruntled look on his face, proceeded to cast his "charm".

" _Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat, rat yellow_." He waved his wand but nothing happened.

Hermione looked at him and his friend, noticing both of their sheepish looks.

"Hm," she intoned. "Just who taught you that spell?"

"Well, it was, uh, it was Fred. My brother. Older brother. He uh, he –," he spluttered.

Hermione held her hand up. "I believe it's a very likely possibility that your brother played a prank on you. I know a spell or two. _Real_ ones, of course."

Before either of the boys could say anything, the young witch turned to the boy at her side and tapped his glasses. " _Oculus Reparo_." The tape that kept his glasses kept together disappeared and the pair looked brand new.

Extending her hand out, Hermione introduced herself. "Excuse me for not introducing myself until now but my name is Hermione Fawley."

The red head sneered down at her outstretched hand, not bothering to shake it. "Ron Weasley."

The other boy took her hand and gave a weak pump. "Uh, thanks. I'm Harry Potter."

Not allowing the surprise to appear in her demeanour, Hermione gave a small, polite smile to Harry. "Nice to meet you." Casting her eyes to the boy across from her, the small smile dropped and she gestured to her nose. "You have a spot of dirt, just there."

Standing up, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "You haven't seen a toad around here, have you? My cousin has… misplaced his familiar."

"No, uh, I don't think we have," Harry answered, smiling apologetically.

"Alright then. Boys." After nodding to them, she turned and proceeded to walk out.

"What a right terror," was whispered none too quietly.

Turning back to the source, she looked down her nose at the ill-mannered boy. She stared at Ron with a blank look on her face, eyes darkening with an emotion that Ron didn't want to identify. It took him seconds before he averted his eyes. Hermione turned back around, only sliding the compartment door halfway closed. She heard shuffling and the closing of the door behind her as she walked away, hoping not to run into the git again.

oOo

"I'm sorry, Neville," Hermione sighed as they stepped off of the train. "We'll go to a professor once we get to the castle and ask if there is some way they'd be able to help us."

Neville shrugged half-heartedly. He doubted he'd be able to find Trevor but he hoped that his cousin was right.

"C'mon now, let's go over there. Seems like all first years are to head over there." She nudged his shoulder and waited until he turned to look at her before she smirked and gestured over the definitely _large_ man that was waving his arm and shouting out that "all firs' years" were to go over to him.

Neville gave her a small smile and held out his arm for her take as his grandparents had taught him to do as was proper. Hermione tucked her hand at the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead the way to the boats. The two cousins introduced themselves to the other two passengers and spoke casually until their eyes gazed upon what was an enchanting view to most of the boats' occupants.

They hit the docks with a slight bump and the rope that sat the bottom of the small boat rose and wrapped itself around the wooden beam.

All of Hogwarts new students piled on to the wooden planks and walked to where Hagrid, the seemingly giant man from before, directed them to walk up the steps and into the ornate, front doors of the castle.

Hermione, Neville, and the rest of the pre-teens stopped in front of the stern witch stood at the top of the steps. Around them hung countless paintings who peered at the not-yet-sorted children.

The intimidating witch analysed each student for a brief moment each with a hard look in her eyes. Her grey streaked dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, leaving no strands to fly away. Altogether, Hermione thought who she assumed to be a professor to be one to cater an alliance with. The woman looked to be a no nonsense type much like her Grandmother. Perhaps she would owl said woman once all was sorted.

"Trevor!" Neville ran to the top step where his familiar sat…right in front of the steely looking witch.

Hermione gave a mental sigh as she tugged her cousin back by his robes and gave the woman in front of her a slight bow of her head in a silent apology. Nudging the boy next her, he spluttered out a quick "S-sorry!" as the older witch sniffed and flicked her nose up slightly in the air. A few students were reminded of an affronted cat.

"I am Mistress Minerva McGonagall," she began. "Mistress of Transfiguration and the transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts. In a few minutes these doors will open, you will enter the Great Hall, and your lives here will begin. I will be back to retrieve you in a five minutes. Do not wander."

With that she walked through the large doors and the first years were given a sneak peak of long tables filled with students from the four houses and the Head Table that housed the rest of the professors as well as the Headmaster.

Hermione turned to Neville once the doors had closed. "Next time be more careful, Nev. I don't want to have to send Grandmother a letter explaining why her grandson has detention the first day of school," she said wryly.

Neville gave her a sheepish smile. Before he could answer her, they both noticed a slight commotion going on in front of them.

Standing in front of Harry Potter and that Ronald Weasley fellow was Draco Malfoy and two new boys that Hermione had not seen in his compartment back on the train. Both boys were a bit beefy and Hermione thought they had slightly menacing looks in their eyes.

Weasley had taken a step closer to Malfoy as both boys sneered at each other. "Red hair, hand me down robes? Must be a Weasley." The blond boy turned back to Potter and gestured back to Weasley. "It'd be more…beneficial to you if you made friends with the _right_ sort of people rather than _him_. I was told that the only good Weasleys are the two elder brothers to this one. There is still speculation about the other three of course but _this_ one is not who you'd want to make friends with. I can help you there."

Malfoy stuck out his hand for Potter to shake. Hermione shook her head. She knew this would not end well. Potter stared at the hand in front of him for a moment before looking up at its owner.

"No thanks. I think I can make the _right_ sort of friends on my own."

Malfoy's face seemed to go rigid in surprise at the refusal. Hermione saw Mistress McGonagall walk up behind the stunned boy and clear her throat. He whipped around and bowed his head to the older witch.

"Mr. Malfoy, I presume? Would you be so kind as to step back with the rest of your year mates."

"Yes, Professor." Malfoy quickly fell back standing to the left of Hermione.

The professor "hmmed" before looking to the rest of the students. "This way, children," she directed.

"Even I could see that was bad form," Neville whispered to his curly haired cousin.

"From both of them," she hummed. She allowed Malfoy and his small posse to walk slightly ahead of them and lowered her voice. "Malfoy shouldn't've came on so strongly opposed to the one person who seemed to make friends with Potter and Potter shouldn't've rejected his offer as he did. He's sure to lose would-be allies."

Neville gave a low, short laugh. "Aren't the Malfoys known Slytherin?" he asked.

"Yes." Hermione looked up to observe the enchanted ceiling. "While that may be true, that wasn't very Slytherin of young Mr. Malfoy, was it?"

"No it was not." He quietened once they got to the front of the hall.

Professor McGonagall stood in front of a battered stool with an equally battered hat sat upon it. The old thing seemed to slump over as if to show its undoubtedly decrepit age. She held an unopened scroll in her hand and addressed the first years.

"When I call your name you will sit here," she waved her hand at the stool, "and I will place the Sorting Hat on your hand. Once your house is determined, you will sit at the specified table and wait to eat until told to do so." The professor unrolled the scroll and read out the first name.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

Hermione watched as student after student was called up to the stool. Despite the nervousness she felt, she kept a stony exterior. Only those that knew her well could see the slight panic in her stiff posture. Neville grabbed her hand hidden by the folds of their combined robes. She glanced at him and gave him a quick, appreciative smile.

"Entwhistle, Kevin!"

The slight boy sat on the stool with an anxious look to him for only a moment before the hat announced "Hufflepuff!" He hopped off the stool with a shy smile as he was given polite applause.

"Fawley, Hermione!"

Neville squeezed her hand before he let it go. Hermione kept her head held up high as she gracefully sat as she was taught. The hat was placed upon her head and she tried not to jump as she heard a grizzled voice in her head.

" _Hmmmm, interesting. Very interesting indeed,"_ the hat intoned.

" _What is?"_ Hermione thought back.

" _You are not who these people believe you are, are you Hermione_ Fawley _?"_

Hermione froze. She thought nothing as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap. She heard the hat cough out a laugh in her head.

" _Don't you worry now, I won't say a word to anyone. That is not my job, of course. Especially when one so special as you has graced my stool."_

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding but stayed tense.

The hat chuckled again. _"Now, now, where to put you. You are indeed a wise one, very intelligent but, no, you would not do your best in Ravenclaw. You would do well, yes, but not your best. Hmmmm, not Hufflepuff. Gryffindor? You are indeed extremely brave to be out like this, glamour or no."_

Here Hermione scoffed. _"Gryffindor house is all well and good but not for me. Grandmother may have been a Gryffindor but my father would have scoffed at most of their blind bravery and Grandmother knew this. No, not that house. I was not born to be in that house,"_ she thought with a miniscule upturn of her lips.

" _Ha! You are a very interesting indeed. Yes, we both know where you would do your best don't we. And do your best you shall in…"_

"Slytherin!"

Hermione waited for the hat to be lifted off her head as she walked down the short steps to get to her new house table. She searched for her cousin and gave him a wink as he gave her a thumbs up. Hearing booing amidst the applause, Hermione turned her head to the two identical redheads sat at the Gryffindor table. Still walking to her table, she noted their appearance with nary a glance and sat down next to Tracey Davis and across from Millicent Bulstrode who were called before her.

Introducing herself, she was already starting to dread what was to come. Watching the rest of the Sorting Ceremony, she prayed to whoever was listening to guide her in what was sure to be a turbulent year.

oOo

"Hermione and Neville sent their first letters from Hogwarts," Alfred grunted as he sat down next to his wife in their library.

"Oh?" Augusta raised one brow. "What did they say?"

"They both send their highest regards. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor and Hermione into Slytherin. They'll send more detailed letters later."

Augusta took a sip of tea from her cup before setting it down on the side table. She sighed as she looked at her husband. "She'll be alright, yes? No one will find out who she is, what she is."

Alfred put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. "Our girl will be just fine, Gussy."

The two sat there in silence while the fire crackled in front of them.

Augusta was the one to break the quiet. "She is the last of her people, Alfred. If anyone finds out they'll hunt her down and use her whether she'd want to or not."

Alfred held her tighter.

"Hermione is strong. Merlin help the one who'd try to get her to do anything against her will."

"Yes," Augusta huffed. She straightened up and put her shoulders back. Picking up her teacup, she continued with, "Our little hellcat would utterly destroy them, wouldn't she?"

Alfred let out a bellowing laugh. "She is our little hellcat for a reason, my love."

"Hmph, of course."

 **A/N: Ok, so I know that didn't explain much but it didn't really fit in this chapter. I already have a head start on the next few chapters so it'll be revealed soon. I'd like to address Draco. I'm trying not to paint him in too much of a bad light right now. He is spoiled, many only children are, especially those of his circumstances. He'll grow as the story goes. Possibly by second year we'll get Hermione to knock some sense into him. I am** _ **not**_ **making the Slytherins the "bad guys". I like to believe that most of the snakes were hiding their true feelings due to the way things were at the time. Of course there will be the "bad" people but I am** _ **not**_ **going to base it on which house they're in. Feel free to tell me what you think of this fic so far. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

 **-Wednesday**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Before we start anything, can I just say I saw Beauty and the Beast and it straight up made me cry. Do you know how hard it is for me to show so much emotion as to cry? It's hard, really hard. Maybe I'm a bit biased because Beauty and the Beast has always been my favourite Disney movie. And, may I just say, Emma Watson as Belle? She was as perfect as one can get in my opinion. Dan Stevens was an amazing Beast. I don't have anything bad to say, actually.**

 **Anyways, I'll continue with the story.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story but the plot and any OC's you see.**

 **Chapter 2:**

 **1 September, 1991, Sunday**

The rest of the feast had gone smoothly. The Headmaster had given his speech, warning the students away from the Forbidden Forrest and a corridor on the third floor. He had finished off with a few odd words and had invited everyone to eat.

Afterwards, the prefects led those of their house to the common rooms. Hermione waved to Neville as she walked beside Tracey and Millicent. He waved back, clutching Trevor to his chest. Hermione admittedly was a bit worried about her clumsy cousin. She only hoped that she wouldn't have to see to some unfortunate accidents if he was mocked.

"Longbottom is your cousin, right?"

Hermione turned to her right where Tracey was staring at the group of Gryffindors.

"Yes," Hermione answered, narrowing her eyes a smidge. "We were raised together."

Tracey shared a glance with Millicent. Hermione looked between the two waiting for the inevitable warning she knew was coming.

"We know you two were raised together but it's different now," Millicent started.

The small, curly haired witch cocked her head to the side and waited in silence for them to continue.

"Well," Tracey was the one who broke the silence, "most of our families were in Slytherin when they were in school. Some of our older cousins haven't graduated yet. And, well, they've all said the same thing. They've told us some things. About the other houses and our house. Nothing bad, you know, just some cautionary advice for all of us."

"What Tracey's saying is that the other houses don't like us," Millicent huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Don't like us? How so?" Hermione inquired.

"Ever since the First Wizarding War with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the rest of the world has a sort of distrust with Slytherins," Millicent explained.

Hermione nodded her head, looking forward. "Because He claimed that he was the heir of Slytherin."

"Uh, yeah, that's why." Tracey had a frown on her face. "We just wanted you to know. Just in case the other houses give you any grief."

Hermione nodded her head, "Thank you."

They walked in silence for the rest of the walk down to the dungeons. The prefect guiding them stopped in front a stone wall. The prefect lowered her voice and murmured something to the wall. The stone wall slid open, revealing a long room with grandiose chandeliers giving off a slightly green hues hanging from the ceiling. Hermione could see that the tall, almost floor to ceiling windows gracing the east wall gave sight to slightly murky waters. Every once in a while, fish would swim by and, off in the distance, a large, blurry object would shoot across the water. There were large fire places with artfully arraigned green, leather furniture surrounding them. The fireplace at the far end housed a portrait of a dark haired man above it. It didn't seem to move like the others she had seen but Hermione thought she saw his calculating eyes flicker across the group of first years.

The older years went off to sit amongst the furniture or through the doors at the end of the room.

"This is the Slytherin Common Room," the female prefect said, now joined by a male her age. "My name is Gemma Farley and this is Alasdair Urquart. We are your 5th year prefects. The other prefects are posted up on the board," she said, gesturing to her right where a large chalkboard was stuck to the wall. Several notices were posted to it but it was too far away for Hermione to read them.

"The boys' dorms are to the left over at the end of the room and the girls are to the right." Alasdair waved his hand to the dorms. Hermione could see stairs in each of the entryways, leading to the dorms.

"Now," Gemma began. "If you're going to be in Slytherin you need to know a few things. We stand as a united front against all other houses here. If you have any disagreements, have them in _private_. Keep it amongst yourselves. Also, _do not_ embarrass our house. We have a reputation to uphold. And don't, for the love of Merlin, _don't_ perpetuate those silly rumours they have of us Slytherins."

Urquart smirked and pointed his thumb at Farley. "What she said. Oh, and the password changes every fortnight. Don't leave the Common Room without checking the board. If you're locked out, wait for another Slytherin to walk by."

Farley nodded. "Our Head of House is the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape. He'll be coming by tomorrow to talk to you all."

"He may seem like a brusque and callous man," Hermione's eyebrow raised and a few other students fidgeted, "but he's always been House before anyone else."

Gemma huffed at her compatriot and gestured gracefully at the far end of the room. "Run along and get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day."

oOo

Hermione looked around at her new roommates for the next several years. The five other girls were getting ready for bed, Hermione being the first to have finished. She glanced at the Parkinson girl she met on the train. She had decided to choose the bed furthest from the door and, therefore, the furthest from Hermione. Next to her was a lithe blonde and next to her was a quiet, auburn haired girl who was staring warily at Millicent's feline familiar who sat lazily on her bed. Millicent rolled her eyes and went over to take her cat from the bed beside hers. Tracey had taken the bed besides Hermione and was now writing what seemed like a letter to her parents.

A movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention as well as the loud throat clearing from the last bed.

"My name is Pansy Parkinson," said girl declared. Hermione inwardly sighed and lounged back against her pillows as the headache inducing girl continued on. "I'm sure we'll be the best of friends." She looked over at Hermione, her lip curling. "Well, some of us will be. I'm not so sure about others."

The blonde blinked curiously at Hermione and flipped her straight, golden hair over her shoulder. "I'm Daphne Greengrass and this is Morag MacDougal," she pointed to the auburn haired witch, "and I know Millie and Trace but I don't think I know your name."

Before Hermione could get a word in, Pansy spoke.

"Oh, _she's_ Hermione Fawley. We met on the train. I don't think she knows how to properly introduce herself," the pug faced girl sniffed. "I don't think she knows her betters are either."

Hermione stayed where she was, eyeing the snooty girl. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were to speak for me. If I had known, I would've gone to bed already."

"Excuse me," pansy fumed.

Hermione cocked her head to the side, "You seem to think that I can't speak for myself. You also have this nasty habit of interrupting. I suggest you learn how to properly converse before you get into trouble."

Pansy sputtered as Millicent and Tracey tried to hide their snickers behind their hands.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Hermione smiled sweetly, "I'd like to go to sleep. Tomorrow is the first day of classes."

With that Hermione shut the curtains and burrowed underneath her covers. She sighed and rolled her eyes. _Merlin, this is going to be a long year._

oOo

 _Dear Grandmother and Grandfather,_

 _So far nothing has gone awry. I've been sorted into Slytherin and Neville into Gryffindor. The castle is just as you told us, Grandfather. The stairs seem to be a bit tricky and I've already heard from a few of the older students say that if you weren't careful, you could miss a whole day of classes because of the staircases but everything else is simply wonderful. There is Peeves, that horrid poltergeist who started taunting us after we left the feast._

 _The other students also told me that because Neville and I have gotten into rival houses that things would be different but I won't that stop me. Family goes first. Although, now that I'm a Slytherin, I suppose I should add my housemates to that too. For now._

 _There's this one girl, Pansy Parkinson, who I encountered on the train. She is absolutely horrid and, unfortunately, she was also sorted into Slytherin. How I'm going to deal with her without sending hexes at her. Completely harmless of course. Two of the other girls, Daphne Greengrass and Morag MacDougal seem to be her friends. Really, all of the girls seem to have known each other for many years. But I've spoken pleasantly with Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis and I hope to become friends with them._

 _I worry, staying in a room with five other girls. I don't feel my glamour faltering but it was much easier to maintain it when I was in the privacy in my own home. I worry that trouble might start, I can feel it. And Harry Potter is here, in Gryffindor with Neville. I'm sure Neville will include his own view on that. He turned down Draco Malfoy's friendship in front of the rest of the first years. Harry Potter, that is. That's sure to go down well in regards to the rest of the year._

 _It's almost curfew and I have to rush to get this letter to the owlery now. I miss you and I love you._

 _Love,_

 _Hermione_

Augusta set the letter down in her lap and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She turned to her husband and waited for him to finish Neville's letter.

"What does he say?" Augusta asked once Alfred had finished.

He patted his wife's hand and smiled. "He says that he has settled in nicely, the other boys in his dorm seem to be good kids. He worries about Hermione being in a different house than he but he's sure that everything will be alright. What does our darling girl tell us?"

"Oh she says the same thing, of course. Other than that Parkinson chit who has already started a discourse between them," Augusta chuckled. Her small smile slowly faded as she looked down at her lap. Her voice was grave when she spoke again. "She also says that Harry Potter has joined their year."

Alfred squeezed her hand. "Yes, Neville said the same."

It was silent for but a moment before the floo came alive.

Out came a tall, middle aged wizard. His steely grey eyes searched the room before they landed on Augusta and Alfred. He moved to the side as the floo deposited another guest. She was older, her flaxen hair had nary a white streak and her eyes were as steely as her escort's. They were both impeccably dressed in wizarding robes and both held themselves with nobility.

The witch and wizard sitting on the couch stood and walked towards their guests.

"Aunt Cassiopeia, Alphard, welcome," Alfred greeted.

Alphard smirked at his cousin and shook his hand, slapping the other on his shoulder. "It's a pleasure. Aunt Cassie and I came by to hear about the two little ones."

"Hermione ended up in Slytherin, didn't she?" Cassiopeia said as she sat on the armchair nearest the fireplace. "Of course she did, she has all the best qualities of one. And I'm sure Neville ended up a Gryffindor like his parents."

Augusta smiled at the older woman. "They did, as if any of us would believe otherwise."

Alphard draped himself across the settee. "And how is our little kitten? No surprises, I take it."

"No," Alfred sighed as he sat back down. "Thank Merlin. But there is the rest of the year to wait on."

Cassiopeia scoffed. "Oh, come now, Alfred. Talking like that only brings useless thoughts which brings stress on your old mind. The real thing we should be worried about is that upstart, Dumbledore. If he catches wind of Hermione, then we'll be in trouble."

"Please, our Mia could flip him on his back in no time if he even sniffs in her direction. She'll be fine," Alphard waved off.

Milly popped in then with a tray floating behind her. "Milly heard guests so she bought refreshments."

"Thank you, Milly."

It was quiet as the residents of the study sat and fixed their tea. Augusta sighed and placed her teacup down after taking a sip and turned to Cassiopeia.

"We decided that Hermione and Neville would continue their training in the Com and Go Room. Milly is going to go over there next weekend to make sure they're able to find it properly."

"Ah, yes," Alphard nodded. "I wanted to ask. How have they progressed?"

Alfred let out a deep chortle and shook his head. "Those two have progressed far more than either of us expected. Looking at Neville, you would think he wouldn't have the, say, capacity to excel as he does but Hermione does push him to be his best. And she was the one who pointed out that he should be able to find a wand of his own, rather than use his father's."

"Ah, yes. Hermione has always been such a headstrong girl, just like her mother was," Cassiopeia snickered.

Augusta looked to her teacup and thought back to her goddaughter, "Hermione is exactly as her mother was at that age. She would act the right princess when around those uptight meddlers and made it a habit to correct those too far up their own arse to see what was in front of them."

"Why Augusta," Alphard gasped. He held his hand over his heart dramatically. "Why I never. Lady Augusta Longbottom, swearing in such polite company. Frankly, I am most aghast."

Cassiopeia sent a mild stinging hex at her nephew.

Alphard chuckled, "You sound like our dear Sirius."

"Don't remind me of that child," Cassiopeia huffed. "I still think something was odd there. As if he would betray the Potters, hmph."

"We know, Aunt Cassiopeia. We've been doing everything to get him out but those damn political sheep can't get stop twiddling their thumbs, as if they haven't been allowing dozens of Death-."

"Alphard," Augusta warned.

The dark haired wizard seemed to slump yet hold his posture perfectly straight. "Fine. Hermione has been working on her 'specialness', yes?"

"Yes, soon she'll be ready to work without the need for supervision or help," Augusta answered.

"Good," Cassiopeia sniffed. "With that Potter boy starting this year, I'm sure there'll be trouble coming."

Augusta frowned. "Funny, Hermione said the same in her letter."

"Well, great minds do think alike."

oOo

The rat scurried across the cold floor, watchful for any familiars that could easily swoop in or pounce on him. Hearing footsteps, it stopped close to the wall, waiting for whoever it was to pass by. Large dark boots walked by, blue robes swishing close to the floor. Light illuminated the short hallway and slowly faded as the person went on their way.

Waiting a moment more, the rat looked to the ends of the hallway before scurrying passed the slightly ajar door across from him.

The rat, seeing the figure standing in the middle of the room, shrouded in shadow, stopped. In the next second, a shabby, portly man stood where the rat stood. His clothes were dirty and seemed to be almost too small for his frame. He kept his thick fingers to his chest, his watery eyes watching the figure.

The wizard kept his head bowed as the figure turned.

"Well, Wormtail, what is going on the Potter boy?"

Wormtail flinched as the hissing voice penetrated the eerie silence. "He's befriended the youngest Weasley boy, My Lord, and has spoken to the others boys in his room. He has rejected Draco Malfoy's accord. So far, he has not had any real interaction with anyone else except for ah, uh," he faltered.

"Spit it out, you fool," the figure wheezed.

"Of course, My Lord, anything," Wormtail grovelled. "It was on the train, a girl came into the boy's compartment and performed a simple spell. That's all. A Hermione Fawley, Longbottom's cousin."

The figure inclined his head still covered in the shadows. "Fawley, you say? Hmmm."

 **So, how was that? Do I get an O or EE? Or a T? As you can see, I'm introducing certain key players in this game rather soon. However, like I said before, nothing truly significant will happen until Hermione's fourth year. That said, things will go a bit fast paced and the next few chapters will be rather lengthy. I want to knock years 1-3 out of the way so I'll try to put in a chapter for each year. The next chapter will be either all of or half of the kids' first year. Review, like, follow, whatever you want. And constructive criticism only, please. Don't be an ass, it helps no one. At least, if you want to be an ass, be subtle about it.**

 **-Wednesday**


End file.
